


jumping off the deep end

by macaroni_rascal



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11018163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macaroni_rascal/pseuds/macaroni_rascal
Summary: Mike punches a baseball player for Ginny and things go downhill from there.But, there is always light at then end of the tunnel, no matter how far away or dim it may seem.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter that used to be in Touching Base.

The day starts out normal enough.

She wakes up at her standard time, does her usual work out, eats her typical breakfast; nothing out of the ordinary. She’s become used to her routine, enjoys it, finds a steady amount of comfort in the repetition. The team has been slowly but surely coming around to her, the majority of them used to her presence and even friends with her. There are still come hold outs, there always are, but she’s mostly unconcerned.

There have been no more fights in the clubhouse, no angry lingering looks or muttered insults thrown at her in a few weeks so she’s feeling pretty confident about her place on the Padres. The season is winding down but they still have a chance of clinching a wild card spot and the team has been playing relatively well.

Then Melky had to go and open his big mouth.

After the picture scandal blew over and things settled down, she’d figured she could close the chapter in her life centered around Trevor Davis. She wrongly assumed it had been dealt with and was in the past, far enough away that it couldn’t touch her anymore.

She feels a little bit like an idiot for being so naïve, but mostly just angry.

“So, Baker and Trevor Davis, huh? You think that’s why they got into it during that game?“

She has her headphones in and is about to go do some warm ups in the gym but hasn’t turned her music on yet, Melky’s hushed voice still loud enough that she and some other players hear him. Ginny knows it’s going to be something she will have to deal with and is already a little tired thinking about it. Mike had asked about it, she’d chosen her words carefully, confirmed nothing. He’d accepted it, if begrudgingly.

She’d been clear and even ribbed the guys about how she doesn’t date ball players, she knows she’s going to catch hell for this – hopefully she’s created enough of a rapport with the team that they will just chide her and ask gross questions she’ll refuse to answer and that will be that.

This is where the naïve part comes in.

Luckily, her step doesn’t falter too much, she just keeps on walking to the gym, turning her music on and going through her exercises, focusing her energy and brain power on the game she’s pitching today, not whatever immature reaction she’s going to receive when she returns to the clubhouse.

Ginny is wholly unprepared for what she’s greeted with when she makes her way back to change for the game.

She hears it before she sees it; she’s walking down the hallway, removing her headphones when she hears loud indiscriminate shouting and the distinct sound of someone getting punched.

She quickens her step and is greeted with Mike attempting to escape the hold Blip, Sonny, and Dusty have on him: both his arms and torso are being restrained and there is a look of pure rage on his face; a look no sane person would ever want to be on the receiving end of. Moore, one of the relief pitchers that has yet to speak with her directly and still gives her the cold shoulder, is being held back by a few of the other guys. Al comes rushing in behind her, yelling at the guys to smarten up and take a walk. It takes a few moments for the din in the clubhouse to fade as the adrenaline wears off and the team begins to calm down.

Mike is breathing hard and there is blood on his knuckles, Moore has a nice sized gash on his cheek.

“I’m good, I’m good, let go!” Mike tears himself away from the arms that were holding him captive. He runs both hands over his face, tugging on his beard and takes a couple deep breaths.

She doesn’t think any of them have seen her yet, or at least clocked that she’d been witness to the tail end of whatever happened. When Mike’s eyes meet hers from across the clubhouse he looks surprised, regretful, then frustrated in the span of a few seconds.

Everyone is slowly trickling back to their lockers, resigned and a little embarrassed – the tension is still palpable as Moore is ushered down the hall to get his face looked at. Al makes his away over to Mike and they speak in hushed, whispered tones that she can’t make out. She walks into her private area and changes quickly.

“You decent, Baker?” Al’s voice carries through the curtains.

“Decent,” she responds.

He comes in, a surprisingly amused look on his face. She cocks an eyebrow involuntarily and Al lets out a small chuckle.

“They are such children, the lot of ‘em. Half this job is just being a parent, I tell ya, rook,” he shakes his head a little, “and some of them are so ungrateful it could make ya spit.”

She’s completely lost and it must show on her features.

“Nothing to worry about, Baker. Just wanted to let you know,” Al pats her shoulder and walks back out, parting the curtain and leaving it open. He clears his throat loudly as he leaves, which confuses her until she sees Mike hovering just beside the partition. She’s guessing the “ungrateful” comment was directed at him.

“So, you and Davis, huh?” He says without preamble. She thinks he’s trying to sound casual, but it comes out a little huffy.

She hangs her head for a couple seconds, just to gather her bearings and assess how she wants to go about this. She figured the fight had been about that, but having it confirmed was still annoying. 1 step forward, 2 steps back.

She scratches the side of her mouth and lifts her head to look at Mike but he seems fascinated by something on the other side of the clubhouse. If he can’t even look her in the eye when he asks the question, he doesn’t deserve the answer.

“That’s none of your business, Lawson,” she says seriously.

His eyes dart to hers quickly before scowling and letting out a sarcastic little laugh that makes her hands curl into fists at her sides.

“Well I just punched Moore in the face defending your honour so I think you owe me an answer, rookie,” his voice is hard and she’s flummoxed for a second.

“Excuse me?” She wants to make sure she heard what she thinks she heard.

“Melky said something about how his friend on the A’s played with you and Trevor back in the minors and that you dated,” the clubhouse is almost empty, most of the guys having left to the field for warm ups.

Ginny lets out a sarcastic laugh of her own, grabs her glove, ignores Mike, and starts to make her way out to the field to focus on the game.

This is where the anger comes in.

She doesn’t need Mike defending her honour, she doesn’t need Melky being a nosy gossip, she doesn’t need Moore doing whatever he did that got him punched. She doesn’t need any of this and yet by virtue of just being herself, these are things she has to deal with.

She can’t just have an ex-boyfriend, no, she has an ex who got hacked and her body became public property. She has gotten so good as letting things roll off her back but her frustration hangs on, tight and unwanted. She’s had to have thick skin and the majority of the time its saved her, protected her, kept her head up when she felt like she wanted to crumble. The problem is that when something gets to her, it buries deep and affects her in an intensely visceral way.

Ginny is usually so good at compartmentalizing things like this, having the occasional panic attack when something gets to be too much. The therapy has been helping and she’s slowly learning to deal with things in a healthier way; a way in which she lets herself feel rather than distract herself with baseball.

She just wants to pitch. She wants to exist without being attacked and scrutinized and harassed and judged. But this is her life, this is what she fought for and she is not going to let anyone or anything, especially not gossip about her idiot ex or an asshole teammate, jeopardize her career and her goals.

But she stays angry.

She stays angry throughout warm ups, the team still tense and not joking with each other as much as they normally would. No one approaches her but Blip, asking if she wants to warm up with him. Blessedly, he doesn’t mention the fight or her and Davis; she’s grateful. She long tosses with him, does some stretching by herself and takes a solo lap around the field to try and work out the frustration that is bubbling up inside her, sharp and searing. It doesn’t work.

She stays angry during the game, her pitches are good if a little wild, she gets annoyed with herself for loosing control and needs to practice a breathing exercise her shrink suggested while the batters change. Mike notices, because of course he does, and calls time.

She is not in the mood and wants him off her mound.

“Everything okay, Baker?” He sounds concerned, his glove is over his face but his eyes betray him.

“Just peachy, give me the ball,” she says, her voice as level as she can manage.

He squints at her for a second before handing it over and walking back to home plate.

They pull her two innings earlier than normal and she doesn’t blame them. It just increases her anger, that she’s let herself be this affected, that her focus and her pitching was affected. She stews silently in the dugout for the rest of the game, they win 2-1 only thanks to Javanes’ home run in the 8th.

The clubhouse is still charged after the game, everyone clearing out relatively quickly; Ginny attempts to be one of them but as she’s walking down the hall toward the exit, she hears her name being called from a PT room.

Mike is standing, leaning against one of the fold out tables, his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.

Unsurprisingly, she is still not in the mood.

“Make it quick, Lawson, I wanna get home,” she says.

“You live in a hotel, Baker, how anxious could you be?” He’s stalling and she just wants to go.

She stays quiet, hoping the silence will force him into spitting out whatever he wants to say.

“Moore said something about you and Davis that he shouldn’t have said and things escalated quickly. The majority of us defended you, I want you to know that. It’s unacceptable and completely ridiculous. You’re a part of this team and you deserve to be treated with respect just like any other player!“ she watches as he works himself up, his body growing more coiled and his words coming out harsher and harsher until he’s almost yelling as he finishes his little spiel.

When the look on her face doesn’t change, he sags a little, sighs loudly and drops his head to his chest.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he looks vaguely sheepish.

Something stills burns hot and sharp in her belly.

“That it?” She asks, clipped and impatient.

He looks at her incredulously, arms uncrossing and opening his palms to her.

“Baker, come on,” he’s looking at her beseechingly, eyes wide and a little confused.

“See you tomorrow,” she says quickly, turning on her heel and walking out.

He calls her name twice as she’s leaving but she keeps walking. She goes for a long run to work off some energy before breaking down and crying in the shower when she returns. It feels cathartic and freeing to just let go for a little while. Maybe this therapy thing is working, she’s almost certain a few months ago she would have just repressed it all and moved on.

Ginny’s phone rings while she’s getting ready for bed. She doesn’t have to look at the caller ID, no one calls her this late but him. She debates whether to answer when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Mike, a phone pressed to his ear. The chimes of her cell stop as he brings his down and ends the call.

“Wanted to make sure you were still up before I knocked,” he has a small smile on his face and she’s opens the door wider to let him in.

She doesn’t really know what to say, she’s physically and emotionally exhausted and wants some silence and sleep. The anger had dissipated, just a quiet hum of tension and anxiety she was still holding onto that had everything to do with the catcher currently plopping himself down on her couch.

“Come on, Baker, give me something here,” his voice comes out in a huff, impatiently.

She lets out a disbelieving noise and shakes her head, going to sit down on the couch beside him.

“What is it exactly you want from me, Mike?“

“A thank you, would be nice.”

She takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders to avoid yelling at him like every bone in her body is telling her to.

“I didn’t ask you to interfere, or punch anyone, or “defend my honour” which does not need defending, by the way,“ she looks at him and his eyebrows furrow disbelievingly.

“Are you joking, rookie? Seriously?“

She levels with him a look.

“Ginny,” his face grows somber and he shuffles over closer to her, not touching her but she can tell her wants to, his hands hovering and twitchy.

“Just because we’re together, does not mean you had any right to do that, you shouldn’t have punched him,” the regretful look on his face makes her calm down a little.

“I couldn’t do nothing, if you’d heard what he sa–” she interrupts him.

“It doesn’t matter what he said, or what anyone says! We agreed to keep us separate. You said you could handle this, Mike.” There is a note of finality in her voice that he must have picked up on because his eyes widen and he starts to look a little panicked.

“Woah, hey, I can! I can handle this,” he goes to grab her hand but she gets up, feeling trapped and antsy. He knows her well enough not to crowd her, she needs space and she’s thankful he’s giving it to her.

“I’m tired,” her says, her voice soft and resigned.

She doesn’t want to hurt him, she doesn’t want this to end but she can’t always get what she wants and she needs to be realistic, and as harsh it may be: prioritize. She needs sleep more than anything, the events of the day are weighing heavier and heavier on her.

He nods but doesn’t look at her, eyes darting around and one of his legs starts to vibrate nervously. He’s trying to calm himself down and she wishes she had the energy to comfort him, but she doesn’t.

She suddenly wishes they had waited, at least until the off season, that way they would have had some time to themselves. Time to figure out what they were to each other, how to exist, how they were going to maintain their relationship while they were teammates. They just sort of fell into each other, being unable to deny the pull and the spark they had; the feeling between them becoming addictive much quicker than she’d anticipated.

Ginny had to admit she felt a lot for her catcher, much more than she had expected. The real Mike Lawson, not the poster or the mythical figure she’d concocted in her teenage mind, but the actual living, breathing, complex, grumpy, supportive Mike Lawson was so much better than what she had imagined.

She’d never felt so understood by another person, so accepted and cherished. The problem was that all of it was distracting, he was distracting: she’d caught him starring at her multiple times at Petco when he shouldn’t have been, they almost got caught kissing last week because they distract each other a little too easily.

This is why she doesn’t date ballplayers, this is why she should have stuck to her rule. She feels so disappointed and sad, her shoulders all of a sudden weigh about a hundred pounds and if she does get some sleep soon she will fall over.

She wants him to stay with her, cuddle her and hold her tight; something about being in his arms makes the world go quiet and her ability to breath a little easier. But she can’t do that to herself, or to him, not if she’s planning on following through and ending things, at least temporarily. They can talk again when the season ends but she knows for now they are both going to be better off. She doubts Mike will see it that way but he’d said from the beginning of whatever they were doing that she got to call the shots because she had the most to lose.

He puts his elbows on his creaking knees and his head falls into his hands, she can see the deep breaths he’s taking.

She needs him out before she caves and asks him to stay.

“We can talk tomorrow, okay?” She says softly, making her way over to her door, her intent clear.

He grunts as he lifts himself off her couch and walks slowly over to where she’s standing, hands in his pockets and chin tucked against his chest. He stops in front of her and finally lifts his head, his eyes shiny and a little desperate.

“Can I say one thing before I go?” He asks.

She nods.

“I’m sorry. I handled this all wrong, I let you down and I am so sorry, I need you to know that, Ginny,” he doesn’t call her by her first name often. Saving it for special moments and when they are wrapped in each other, lost in pleasure.

“I know,” she can’t make herself look at him and he lets out a sad, resigned sigh.

She feels his hand come up and wrap around her back of her neck, he tips his head down and kisses her on the forehead, lingering, breathing her in. Involuntarily, one of her hands comes up and curls into his shirt before she lays her palm flat on his chest and gently shoves him away. It takes everything in her to do it but she’s about three seconds away from throwing her arms around him and not letting go.

When she finally looks up at him he looks heartbroken and scared. His hand moves around to cup her cheek, his thumb brushes once against where her dimple would be if she’d been smiling. He opens the door and walks out.

She turns the lights off and climbs into bed, not letting herself cry again, she focuses on her breathing and lets herself drift to sleep, hoping tomorrow will be better than today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The update, what happens next and how they move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the sequel took so long, hope it lives up. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

When she walks into the clubhouse the next day, she's tired and a little resigned. She'd had one of those nights where you sleep so hard that you wake up tired. Thinking about her conversation with Mike makes her want to curl into a ball, hide back under the blankets, and avoid the entire thing. 

She knows she made the right decision, but it doesn't make it any easier. She'd felt so amazing with him, talked with him about things she hadn't shared with anyone, got comfortable and content. He was such a lovely person, both in general and to her. Rectifying the fact that she was going to need to let him go, especially in the harsh light of day, was proving painful in a way she hadn't been ready for.

Ginny knew it wasn't going to be easy to end things with him, but she wasn't prepared for the bone-deep feeling that she was making a mistake, that despite the overwhelming logic and practicality of her reasoning, something in her was whispering that the last thing she should do was let Mike go.

She'd been overwhelmed with his level of tenderness with her. Not that she'd expected him to unfeeling or taciturn, but he held her with reverence and looked at her like she was giving him a something precious by just being near him. It was overwhelming and beautiful, and she cherished it so much that thinking about going forward without him made her feel quietly hopeless. 

This feeling of being completely torn up inside was not something she’d been expecting, she scolds herself for letting it get this far in the first place. She knew better, she knows better. She was taught better than this.

Mike's at his locker. He doesn't look up when she enters but she knows he knows she's there. They have an awareness of each other, and besides she could see his shoulders tighten from the moment she entered the clubhouse. 

She gets changed for BP, having decided on a home work out to avoid run-ins with her captain. Ginny had felt like a coward but she knew they wouldn't end up talking at Petco, she had planned to suggest drinks somewhere after the game to talk details. She'd made a grown-up decision, and she was going to handle it like a grown up: maturely, calmly, practically.

She thinks.

She hopes.

She’ll see.

Ginny comes out of her area and Mike is waiting for her.

"Wanna go over the hitters? The A's roster changed, figure refreshing on Kris Davis couldn’t hurt," he's perfunctory, professional, devoid of warmth.

She's frozen for a second, but then quickly agrees, she'd only pitched to Davis once and he'd got a home run off her.

"Yeah, definitely," she says, following his lead. 

They go over Davis, Valencia, Alonso, and Vogt just to be safe. The entire time he is proficient, keeping things only about baseball. He's casual, no jokes, but he's not being sarcastic or petty at all. When they finish up, he nods at her and just walks away. 

She's not entirely sure how to feel, grateful maybe, that he's taking this in stride, sad that it's already apparent they are done for good, hurt that it seems easy for him. Though she knows it can’t be, she sees how tense he is, how he won’t look at her for too long.

 _God_ , she thinks, _this sucks._

She focuses back on the game, spends her time in BP with Blip for the most part, and just gets through the day. She warms up her arm with Bessner, Mike is in the batting cages warming up with another player and she's fine with it. 

Ginny doesn't like this low tension that has been thrumming through her veins since his brief and indifferent gaze had met hers. If this is what it's going to be like from now on, she's not sure how she's going to handle it. She feels bereft and cold despite the San Diego sun hot on her face. 

When the game starts, her and Mike go onto the field like normal, play a good game. He only calls time once, he's civil, professional, focused. 

After the game, he even says goodbye to her, tells her to have a good night. He and Blip leave together and she doesn't get a chance to invite him out for the drink. Maybe he doesn't actually want to talk, just wants to accept their new reality and move on as quickly as possible. 

Maybe she should follow his lead, maybe they don't have to talk about it, maybe he's protecting himself.

That makes her temples throb, that he may feel the need to protect himself from her.

She heads to the Omni and talks herself out of calling Evelyn. 

Blip suspected but didn't know for sure, and Evelyn was in the same boat. It wouldn't do good to tell her after the fact, she'd just got to deal with it, like she deals with most things, alone and rationally. For the most part, anyway.

She is watching game footage for the Dodgers, they are playing them in 3 days, when there is a knock at the door.

It's Mike.

"Oh, hi." She says a little belatedly, she certainly wasn't expecting him.

He's got his hands in his pockets and an expectant look on his face. She lets him in and rather than take his normal seat on the couch, he remains standing; he turns and faces her, features hardening with determination.

"We didn't get a chance to talk," she finally offers, not sure what else to say.

"Yeah, kind of by design," he sighs and rubs his chin a few times.

"Well, I was avoiding you too, a little," she says to the ground.

Ginny feels him walk up to her and place a gentle hand on her elbow.

"But probably not for the same reasons I was avoiding you," with that her eyes lift, totally lost by his words. He continues.

"I always say the wrong thing, or not do the right thing. I did both yesterday. This, today, was me trying to show you that I can be professional, that I can handle this, us," he sways a little closer to her.

He may be speaking in an even voice, but she can almost feel the vibrating anxiety that's rolling off him in waves.

She wasn't expecting that, but she's stupidly and wonderfully happy that it wasn't just easy for him to revert back to old ways. Ginny also thinks he should have told her that’s what he was doing instead of choosing a strange sort of minimalist grand gesture to demonstrate what he was trying to convey.

But then again, she knows him and she saw how scared and anxious he was last night, how maybe doing this was the best he could do with how he was feeling. He is very good at speeches, not so much at consistent back and fort, which is something they will have to work on together. She takes a deep breath, feeling incredibly proud he fully realized how he hurt her and how he messed up, but torn with how to go forward.

Her self-doubt and need to self-protect are louder than the voice telling her to give him another chance. But the look on his open, affectionate, and hopeful face is making the former speak up. 

"Okay, but what happens the next time a player says something about me?" She asks, because it's a very real possibility. 

He's not deterred for a second, "I can control myself and if push comes to shove," he smiles at her a little, thinking he made a joke, “I’ll just walk away."

He says it all so simply, like it's just that easy, like she doesn't know him and doesn't know he always needs to get involved even if it's just with speeches or threatening looks.

"Okay, and what if I'm in another beanball war? You didn't even want me in one before we got together, what's gonna happen if I get hit?" The voices are quieting but she's hesitant, she has to be. At least, that's what she tells herself.

Ginny watches as his brow furrows and he shuffles from foot to foot, squeezing her elbow where his hand is still resting.

"Well, I'm gonna charge the field, but only if the rest of the team does too," once more, he manages to say it like it's the easiest decision, a non-issue.

"Mike," she sighs, running a hand over her face. 

When he cups her cheek, and tilts her head up to look at him, she lets him.

"I'm willing to show you any way you want just how committed I am to this. If it's between maintaining composure at work or losing you? It's not a competition, there is no choice to make for me, Baker. You win, every time, hands down" he's holding her in that intensely tender way of his and looking at her with gentle but beseeching eyes. Mike is laying it all out for her and she can't breathe.

"But listen to me, if this is too much, if you want to end things then I'll accept it. I'm not going to say I won't wait for you, because I will. The day after the season ends I'll be at your door," something in her face must betray her because he looks calm and smiles down at her, warm and affectionate.

"You'd wait for me?" Her voice is small, she feels a little weak to have folded so quickly. She tries to remind herself she's strong for taking a chance, for being true to herself. It's not weak to want to be with someone, to share your time, your love, yourself, with somebody you care about. 

"Baker, I don't want to freak you out but I'd wait until after I retired if you asked," she can't help but smile at that, "hell, I'd wait till you retired if you wanted but I really hope not because I'm in my prime right now and it'd be a shame for you to lose out on all of this," he gestures to his body and she laughs, elated and teary eyed. 

She hugs him, tightly and fiercely. He does the same, she feels him let out a tremulous sigh into her hair. 

Ginny pulls back and kisses him, because it feels so good when she does and she'd been living under the impression she wouldn't be able to for the foreseeable future for only one day and it was already too much. She hated it, and _this_ , this is so much better.

His hands drift, running up and down her back, one landing on her ass, one her waist. She can feel every inch of him and she lets herself soften into his embrace. When they part, Mike hugs her again, tucking his face into her shoulder.

She's a little shaken at how relieved she feels, she's never had someone like Mike and she's more protective of it, of him, than she'd fully realized. 

Mike is trembling in her arms, no doubt elated and relieved at the turn of events and her reaction. She understands, she feels a little outside of her body with happiness. The only thing keeping her grounded are his strong arms around her, holding on for dear life.

He sighs again into her neck, she feels a little moisture and digs her fingernails into his skin.

"Easy there, old man," she murmurs and, somehow, he settles deeper into her embrace. 

Sometime later, how long Ginny is not sure, they migrate to her bed, laying down together and cuddling close. She's playing idly with his fingers, she has his callouses memorized by now and she runs her fingers over them, his strong catcher’s hands, made for holding and holding on tight. 

Ginny lifts herself up onto her elbow so she can look at him; she smiles when she sees how peaceful he looks; his eyes are closed and a small grin plays on his lips behind the beard. 

Her fingers tug at his chin hair until he looks up at her, eyes bright and trusting.

"I love you," she breathes out, like it's a fact, like there was never any doubt, like she was born to.

Mike looks like she just gave him the best gift he's ever received and she waits while he comes to terms with what she's said. 

"You know how sometimes you want to say so many things at once you go speechless?" Is what he finally says.

Personally, she thinks there is only one thing he should be wanting to say, but she humours him.

"You? Speechless?"

"You told me you loved me, rookie. My dreams just came true." 

She melts. Just falls on top of him, butterflies flapping furiously in her stomach while her eyes well up with tears.

He's such a sap and she wants to hug him so hard he has a permanent imprint of her arms around his body. 

"Hey, look at me, Ginny," gentle hands lift her up. She's comforted to see his eyes are as wet as hers. He's a little blurry but oh so beautiful. 

"I love you. I love you so much," he breathes out in wonder, a small choked laugh escapes her as she grins down at him.

"Listen though, listen," he clutches her a little desperately, "I more than love you, Baker. I've never felt like this, it's like you're in my veins," Mike speaks with such conviction she can't help but hold him just a tightly. 

She wants to chime in but he keeps going, clearly no longer feeling speechless.

"I swear when you were born your heart must have been taken from your chest and put into mine and mine into yours. I think my heart beats faster when you're around because it recognizes you," she can't help but believe him, and his love-struck smile only makes her want to kiss it off his face, "I know it sounds corny and ridiculous but this is what you've done to me, rookie."

Ginny lays a palm over his heart and feels the rapid staccato, she leans in towards Mike and tries to pour everything she's feeling into the kiss, letting her lips against his say what they can't on their own.

"Hi," she whispers when she pulls back, her eyes searching his face and breathing in the moment between them.

"Hi," he breathes, his tone heavy with promise and love.

The smile at one another, warm and content.

They fall together slowly and naturally, bodies attuned to each other, dancing a choreography they know well and have practiced so many times; repetition breeding spontaneity and ease between them.

Ginny is very sure they will need to work more, talk more, share more. She needs to explain how she felt throughout the day of him seemingly ghosting on her, he needs to expound his self-sabotaging ways.

But right now, in this moment, they simply exist with each other, joyous and free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Comment if you'd like, it is always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for maybe re-reading/or just reading for the first time! :D
> 
> Comment if you'd like, it is always appreciated.


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